


One Thread Remains

by OtherThingsToDo



Category: Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-16
Updated: 2016-04-16
Packaged: 2018-06-02 14:19:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 619
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6569647
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OtherThingsToDo/pseuds/OtherThingsToDo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Set after Season 2:   Sherlock has returned from the dead after 18 months – sort of.  He’s in hiding and only a very limited number of people know it.  Only one thread in Moriarty’s web remains – his right-hand man, Sebastian Moran.<br/>	Sherlock has a plan, but failure would put Mrs. Hudson, John Watson and Greg Lestrade back in the crosshairs.  Mycroft has concerns.</p>
            </blockquote>





	One Thread Remains

“No.”

“What?”

“No. This plan of yours is too dangerous. I can not allow it.”

“Allow it? Why do you think you get a say in this? I’ve been running my own operations for the last 18 months, I think I can handle one more.”

“For the last 18 months you have operated on your own with strategic backup from MI6 need I remind you. Now you are talking about involving some of the very people you faked your death to protect. What are you thinking? It is too dangerous.”

“Mycroft, I’ve figured all the variables, foreseen every possible outcome. It will work. Moran will be caught and this nightmare will be over. I can go home.”

“And collateral damage? Have you figured out a plan where there is no risk to yourself or the others.”

“Of course there’s a slight risk, but if…”

“You will not endanger his life again, Sherlock. I forbid it!” Mycroft cut Sherlock off, a flash of genuine anger in his eyes in a rare display of emotion.

“I appreciate the way you looked after John while I was gone, though you certainly could have done a better job of it.” Sherlock shot an exasperated look at his brother. “But John’s life need not concern you any longer. I am back. I will relieve you of that chore.”

“It’s not his life I am concerned about!” Mycroft nearly shouted. Collecting himself, he quickly looked away, hoping Sherlock had not had a chance to read too much into his expression.

“Then who… Ah. I see,” Sherlock said slowly, studying Mycroft’s averted face. “I had no idea. Does he?”

“No. It would not be prudent. It is best left…..unpursued.” Mycroft sighed and rubbed a hand across his eyes tiredly. “I just….” He trailed off and looked at Sherlock imploringly. “I find that for the first time in my life I am more concerned about the men – the man – than the mission.”

“I understand, brother. Believe me. For the first time in our lives, I think I understand you. But Mycroft, his life is in danger every day. It’s his job. You know this.”

“Petty thieves and unimaginative murderers. Mildly dangerous but nothing on this level, Sherlock. Moran is nearly as dangerous as Moriarty was. This is completely different.”

“Tell me. Do you object to the plan itself or just the players?”

“The plan is feasible, but only just. There are still many things that could go wrong.”

“Exactly why I want John and Lestrade with me - in my sight the entire time. Do you think either of them would be happy being sent off to a safe house until this is over? John would never tolerate it, and I doubt Lestrade would either.”

“True.” Mycroft walked over to the wall where Sherlock’s plan was laid out with photographs, push pins, tape, and string, seeming to mull it over.

“I’m thinking that perhaps four would be better than three for this mission,” Mycroft said.

“Three will suffice. Besides, there’s no one else I would trust.”

“I may know of someone.”

“No. Absolutely not. You will not saddle me with one of your agents. I don’t care how well-trained they are.”

“I was thinking of someone else. The agent who extracted you from Serbia.”

“You can’t be serious. You hate field work. Other than getting me out of Serbia you haven’t done the footwork in years.”

“Perhaps I found I rather enjoyed getting back in the game.”

“And did you?”

“No. But it was in service to a cause I believe in unreservedly.”

The two stared at each other wordlessly, communicating much more than words ever could for several long minutes.

“Alright, then.” Sherlock said. “Let’s go.”


End file.
